Multithreading
by Truemmerphantom
Summary: A male OC being gender-switched, senseless rambling, massive amounts of slime and a CPU conveniently coming to the rescue? Huh, wow, Blanc writes some pretty crazy stuff... Wait, this one isn't hers?
1. Prologue - Don't pet the Animals!

**Multithreading  
**

Prologue: Don't pet the Animals!

Disclaimer: Hoh boy, what am I getting myself into? Last I checked, I'm neither !F Idea Factory, Compile Heart, Felistella, Criware and everyone else who has the slightest bit to do with the Hyperdimension Neptunia series, of which I claim no ownership whatsoever of. I'm just a crude guy who happens to quite enjoy the series because of the memes, fourth wall breaks and the absurd amounts of game-related references added into it. That and because the series has Blanc.

* * *

"Ugh, my head..."

Well, that's definitely a _great_ start into the day. The sun bombards innocent life-forms with its deathly UV-rays, a bunch of pesky oxygen synthesizing wooden trees are busy being assimilated by a colony of termites, countless innocent worms fall prey to the deathly predators of the sky, a lonely river carries various items once cast aside by careless people away into the deep parts of an ocean and it is far too early in the afternoon to be awake.

But seriously, why am I outdoors? All things concerned, this is not the natural habitat of a self-proclaimed hobby-gamer and I have better things to spent my money on than on alcohol, energy drinks or cancer sticks... or a G-F, if we are at it. Also, I sincerely doubt that I had consumed any of the three former - or been slapped by the one latter -, so what's the origin of that _gigantic_ headache? It feels like a mammoth had pooped on me before turning me into a poor impression of modern art!

By the goddess of friggin' RNG, had a friggin' truck driven me over?

Ugh.

...

Okay, okay, being mad equals more hurt for my head. Which is bad. Being calm equals less hurt for my head. Which is good.

... I'm not making any sense, am I?

*sigh*

Alright, boot up that darn body-control-algorithm or whatever you call 'get your darn rear in gear' nowadays. So, opening the eyes, there are three things that became quite interesting quite fast:

The first thing that comes to the immediate attention is that I'm lying on my stomach, my lower body covered by the water flowing through a rather shallow part of the aforementioned river while the upper body lies on a rather uncomfortable gravel 'shore'... or a dry part of the river bed. Probably the latter.

The second thing of interest had something to do about the greenery... or, to be more precise, the... augmentations. Circle-y 'bands' of some form of white metal hovered around lush, lively giants of trees and emitted light in various colors of the rainbow, a metal bridge with... holograms substituting for railings connected one river bank with the one on the opposite side...

And third: The general temperature more than likely exceeds twenty-seven Celsius and the sun is directly shining on my unprotected body. I'll more than likely get a major case of sunburn if I proceed to lie here like some fish who's incompetent enough to _drown_ in its supposed-to-be natural element.

...

Aaand there's a forth thingamabob: My hair is longer than it used to be and changed its color from red to blond.

...

Also, there's a Dragon-Quest-Slime-lookalike with dog ears, -snout and -tail wobbling along the rim of the river with no care whatsoever in the world. A walking red-tulip-flower-thing with a pair of stubby feet and arms chased after it, hell bent on tackling the slime's tail from what could be seen. Shortly after, a pair of Skunk-Tail-Cats with likely-but-unlikely swollen forepaws were rudely interrupted by the duo of blob and plant, mercilessly plowed away and launched into the water. Their combined screeching of indignant death threats startled a flock of yellow, overgrown chicks (the variant with feathers, not the human kind) out of their nests within the nearby trees and also lured a big, bad, blue-ish furred wolf with... some kind of metal blades strapped on its hind legs towards them. A mighty pounce of truly epic proportions, two infuriated screams of overly crude swearwords as well as a cloud of bluish-white square data packages later and the wolf found himself in the presence of two mighty chunks of ham with stereotypical bones rammed through.

... Well, this sight either confirms that I'm dreaming... or I became insane... Well, more insane than before, in any case.

Aaanyways, I _think_ the wisest action to do right now would be to _quietly_ get up and as far away as humanly possible from the big, carnivorous, hungry wolf over there lest the beast may seek to turn my lonesome self into a simple dessert and, considering the circumstances, that would be very, very suboptimal towards the preservation of my insignificant existence.

Though I'm a dog person, I highly doubt this beast would be brought to subservience through excessive belly scratching... and I am not quite in the right state of mind to verify my hypothesis by actually doing the deed. These long claws it claims ownership of are definitely able to pierce through flesh like a hot knife through liquefied butter.

And I quite enjoy living, thank you very much.

Well then, in this case it is of the utmost priority that I get my mortal shell up and running, if one may excuse my rather unusual choice of words. To do so, to get myself to a sitting position beforehand would be the best course of action, something that requires me to get my arms operational and push myself up. So with that time and space delaying thought, I move the keyboard-murdering body parts of mine next to me and into the field of vision-

...

What in the seven frozen hells?

There are hands in my field of vision and they _feel_ like mine, alright. A definite plus, I can't argue with that. What I can and will argue about, on the other hand (pun SO NOT intended), is the very simple, unavoidable fact that they are _most certainly not_ the set of hands I had yesterday evening... or ever before now. Don't get me wrong, these hands I see right now are _most certainly_ quite beautiful and dainty and delicate and pale and whatever else I can't wrap my head around right now.

However, and this is the main concern right now, they are almost exclusively found ON GIRLS!

On the plus side, my old headache makes a run for the hills. Unfortunately, it runs away from its evil big sister migraine.

I had just realized _why_ _exactly_ the gravel digging into my upper body itches so badly.

...

This train of thought ends now. I can always bitch about the quite literal exchange of perspectives at a later point in time, _preferably when_ _that giant wolf isn't charging at me!_

 _Move, move, move!_

Gods friggin' darn it, I will **kill** whoever decided to cram me into this body! There will be blood! There will be gore! I will sacrifice that sick, profanity filtering dastard to Skorne!.. whoever that is.

Maybe I should sacrifice them to the Fell Dragon instead.

Less death threats, more survival! Assess the darn situation!

I'm upright and running. I'm running quite fast, despite the fact of certain... balancing issues. GODS! There's a quarter-ton big, bad, blue wolf chasing me, a look of seemingly insatiable hunger in its... yellowish glowing eyes... and it is grinning... and staring... and... leering?

It's staring at my darn behind!

Aaand... apparently I'm not running anymore and, instead, glare vividly against the definitely perverted animal while standing around on a dirt path like a complete moron. In my defense, the wolf-thing is also just staring at... well, my... things. Like the pervert it is... or, at least that's what I presume how a pervert would be staring at one if... you know... Well, considering that the familiar feeling of (soaked) clothing against skin is projected to that brain of mine, there is an abysmally low chance that the body I seem to inhabit (hopefully temporarily) from now on would turn the heads of human males around. I sincerely hope that is not the case. Maybe it just smelled something-

...

No, that is something I want to think about even less.

The dirt path moves along the somewhat rather familiar river to my right. To my left, there's the underbrush and lots of trees in close proximity to one another.

If I follow the path, the chance to stumble over signs of a random, possibly human, civilization are rather high, but the wolf will most certainly catch up to me and do horrible, M-rated things before filling that bottomless stomach of his... it is a male, right?

If I abandon the dirt path and jump into the thick underbrush, the pervert wolf won't fit through, but the chances to find a village or something like that are drastically reduced... provided this is some kind of natural resort or something ridiculous like that. I will be able to increase my immediate chances at survival, but might run into smaller, equally dangerous adversaries along the way.

Certain death filled with unfathomable humiliation or potential death through the claws of whatever creatures lurk within the underbrush?

... The wolf ran past me, not looking back.

...

Instead, he/she's running into the far distance, howling out loudly into the sky.

Another howl answered, faintly heard from the direction the original one was charging to.

...

Well, that's a thing.

* * *

 _Roughly an hour of endless walking later_

Okay.

I'm on a simple dirt path on top of a hill, just outside the _unbelievably huge_ forest. The sight in front of me is filled with an _ocean_ of green pastures. Weird badger-cats with knight-like helmets run around with seemingly no care in the world and green slime-dogs huddle together and doze the day away, unaware of the bipedal tulips of varying sizes and colors dancing in their vicinity. Truly, whoever decided to uproot every single tree to create this literal sea of grass never thought about the effect it may have over the intensity of the wind, but not everyone is graced with the power of foresight.

In the far, far, _far_ distance one can see the first real signs of a settlement, namely the vague shape of gigantonormous skyscrapers of some kind... And yes, 'gigantonormous' is a truly legitimate word now. Anyway, one of said gigantonormous skyscraper had the _vague_ ellipse-like curve like that one opera house building in Sydney I can't quite seem to grasp the name of right now, but it was more... the curve wasn't as strongly pronounced. Also, for some odd reason, the citizens had painted their buildings purple.

Heck, if my eyes don't betray me, there are even skyscrapers placed _on the sides_ of the biggest skyscraper!

I'm not _entirely_ sure how exactly I could recognize the color and shape of the buildings on the far, far, _far_ horizon, but it is none the less a sight to behold. Truly a fortunate find.

Unfortunately, it was on the other side of an _actual_ ocean... Or, well, an _actual_ sea.

There's a lot of water in the way, let's go with that.

The city also looked _vaguely_ like Hamburg.

Kinda.

Sorta.

You may have to squint a bit, I guess.

Or a lot.

Okay, okay, it _doesn't_ look like Hamburg.

But it is a city of a civilization, so that is a plus... right? I just have to punch some trees, build a crafting table and craft a boat, right? Or, alternatively, get _a lot_ of fallen branches together, bind them together with some long ropes made of grass, build a raft and use a good branch as a paddle, right?

...

So, let's search for another, more accessible settlement, one that is preferably on _this_ side of the unpredictable seas.

* _grroarrm_ *

And maybe find something edible along the way. There has to be _something_ out here, right?

Right?

* * *

 _Roughly three hour of seemingly pointless walking later_

"Dogoo!"

I am on another hill this time, overlooking the glorious sight in front of me for the first time.

It turns out, there _is_ at least one settlement on this landmass. A port town, to be precise. A large port town with housings, industry districts, shopping districts, hotels, museums, internet Cafés, tons of game shops, slums, a red light district, bars, bar fights, taverns, tavern fights, radio towers, a giant, boxy, arch-like, white building that almost reaches from one end of the city to the other... and, most important of all, restaurants and food stalls. Lots and lots and _lots_ of restaurants and food stalls.

Which came hand-in-hand with the rather _important_ realization that I am completely, utterly _broke_.

As far as I know, I don't have a wallet on me... or a money pouch... or any of my... actually, I don't have actual pockets on my clothing. Apparently brown sandals covered in mud, white socks covered in mud, underwear, a long, white... skirt partially covered in mud, a green T-shirt _not_ covered in mud and a hungry body seem to be all the possessions I can safely claim ownership of right now.

Long story short: A certain device that connected me to the civilization at large failed to remain within my possession: My Smartphone.

And thus I found myself sitting on top of the hill, idly watching from afar wherever the crowds of citizens walked to and from on the city's streets.

Actually, I lied. I just lay there in the grass, staring at the sky, waiting to starve to such a point that a passerby or three would haul me to the next hospital, at which point I might be able to get some sustenance. Sure, the plan wasn't without its faults, but it sounded indefinitely better than searching for food in trash cans, getting a low-paid job, selling my organs, commit to stealing, asking a passerby, go to the town hall or an information booth for tourists, a police station and, most importantly of all, _walking through the crowds!_

Sure, less-than-savory folks could find me lying here and do whatever they wish with me, but... I better don't think about it. Yes, that sounds like a _very good thing_ to do.

"Doo-goooo."

Unfortunately, these lands' critters proof to be quite interested in the random person that decided to go through with a ginormously stupid plan of epic proportions and, in the case of this particular, annoying dog-slime, found quite a lot of amusement in poking the left side of my head with their muzzle the entire time instead of leaving me alone. The poking alone I could tolerate to a certain extent, but this kind of amorphous mammal had the particularly irritating side effect of leaving behind blue goo whenever it touched something with anything that _wasn't_ either it's muzzle or other furred body part.

My stomach rumbles.

I sigh.

"Dog-oooh?"

Well, I won't get any sleep anytime soon it seems. Getting back up to sit cross-legged, I shift my attention to the little mammal-wannabe and, simultaneously, scrub the slime off my face with the help of a handful of grass... and by the RNG-Goddess Anna, I wish I hadn't gotten up.

That little guy managed to project the 'I-haven't-gotten-anything-yet,-please-feed-me'-look with such an intensity and mastery that it gave brown Labrador pups a run for their money.

In other words, it was absolutely adorable.

Within mere seconds, the little critter found itself sitting in my lap, cheerily coating my... skirt in blue slime as it got it's ears scratched. Yes, yes, I know, I have no idea what kind of garbage piles this thing has pillaged and what kind of diseases it may spread, but I don't care right now! I'm a god-darn dog person and this thing is the next best thing to a dog. Situations like this are to be expected.

Aaand now it melted. Great...

"Dooo-gooo~"

... I have to admit, that little fellow does manage to worm it's way into people's hearts just by smiling - yes, smiling - like a total, adorkable idiot. Either that or I'm just not mentally fortified enough to kick them away. Probably a mixture of both.

"Goo?"

"Dogoogo?"

"Goo Dogoodo!"

Aaand it has friends.

"Googoogoo!" "Goodooodogoo." "Veee!" "Splurp." "Gooey?"

LOTS of friends. Also, why's there a blue, bipedal tulip mixed into the crowd?

Do they expect me to pet them all?

"Goeydoey!"

* * *

 _Hours later - Evening_

As it turned out: Yes, they expected me to pet them all. And though it is hard to properly placate nine slime-dogs and a bipedal, blue tulip, which, in turn, _thinks_ it is a slime-dog, it becomes plain-out impossible as soon as the attention of more and more creatures had been piqued.

At first, just a few more small, blue slime-dogs had shown up, apparently curious about the strangely formed ear-scratcher in the midst of the pack of slime-dogs and the lone, walking plant, decided to give the whole experience a try and integrated themselves into the merry band of (mostly) amorphous creatures. This, in turn, grabbed the attention of _small_ _pink_ slime-dogs who, _unfortunately_ , turned out to be _very needy_ when it came to excessive pampering. This, in turn, seemed to upset the blue slime-dogs quite a lot and they decided to gang up on the red ones... by merging into Slime-Dog-Stacks and Giant Slime-Dogs.

Secretly. I was quite proud of my name choices since they described _exactly_ what these creatures were. Three Slime-Dogs stacked on top of one another would turn into a Stack of Slime-Dogs, meaning they were (properly) thrice as strong as one alone. Not only that, but apparently you could substitute the uppermost Slime-Dog with a bipedal, blue tulip. Giant Slime-Dogs on the other hand were a combination of _a lot_ of tinier Slime-Dogs and, as the name suggested, _gigantic_. Well, at least as big as a one story tall building, in any case.

So, yea... Three Blue Slime-Dog-Stacks (plus one Tulip) and a Blue Giant Slime-Dog were about to engage four red Slime-Dogs and guard their ear-scratching-privileges. However, before a proper skirmish could take place, reinforcements arrived for the red army... in the form of Red Slime-Dog-Stacks and Red Giant Slime-Dogs. This, on the other hand, caused to pique the interest of other Blue Slime-Dogs in all shapes and sizes to appear and thus the stream of fortifying forces never ceased for both sides.

Until now.

With my back to the city, I observed the two opposing forces, blatant disbelief visible on my face.

"Where did they all come from?! "

Two armies. Red and Blue. Dawn and Dusk. Pirates and Ninjas. Sith and Jedi. Marvel and DC. Battlefield and Call of Duty. Plants and Zombies

"How did it end like this?"

If I had to guess, both sides had a dozen times a dozen Giant Slime-Dogs each, a few of them even stacked on top of one another to form Giant Slime-Dog-Stacks. Wobbling around them were a dozen times more of the 'normal' sized Slime-Dog-Stacks. They, again, were apparently outnumbered a dozen to one by the 'normal' Slime-Dogs. Multiple members of The Red Army wore pirate hats, straw hats, marine caps, Skyrim-style Viking Helmets and eye patches of varying sizes and styles while a few members of The Blue Alliance had donned samurai helmets, knight helmets, ninja masks or, in one case, had apparently swallowed _a lot_ of oranges to turn its color from blue to orange. Hell, even the blue Tulip from before had _somehow_ changed the color of its petals to _pink_! _PINK!_

 **"Dooogoooooo!"**

But the spotlight of this madness took the two... I think I'll call them _Emperors_ for now. I think a dozen of the Giant Slime-Dogs in each army had fused together to form two _ridiculously_ large _Titanic_ Slime-Dogs! They wore a Straw hat and a friggin' Hokage Hat respectively!

The only creature that stood out of this madness was the one Slime-Dog that had triggered this madness in the first place. Heck, it's still sitting in my lap for crying out loud!

Yet I couldn't help but wonder if all of these Slime-Dogs knew why they were about to start a fight in the first place.

On the other hand, if they decided to sign a Truce and shift their sights on the city behind me... or _on me_...

...

I JUST SCRATCHED SOME EARS! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?

"My, my, _that_ could be heard from miles away and you hadn't even voiced it out. I'm impressed."

I allowed myself a small glance backwards, caught a glimpse of bare skin... and promptly focused on the madness in front of me again. "GODS, don't you have _any_ kind of common decency?!" Seriously, whoever that woman behind me is, she should be _ashamed_! _Barely_ five percent of her body is covered!

... Why am I complaining about that? I... _was_ a darn guy, I should've passed out instantly with a massive nose bleed!

She chuckled. _Chuckled!_ "Quite the temper, too. For a moment I thought a certain, ill-tempered someone had finally reached her growth spurt and came to pledge her eternal loyalty to me." She sighed _sensually_ and I don't have to turn around to know how _that_ _breath_ had moved her _assets_ around. "Oh well, it was not meant to be. Instead, it is of the utmost priority to quell this little commotion, ensure the safety of my dear citizens and prepare myself in a timely manner for the raid on the bandit holdout of the Fire Breathing Turtle Bunnies of Fell Mountain."

... What?

The woman _walked_ to the left side of mine and I redoubled my efforts to focus on... the cosplaying Slime-Dogs in front of me... who were still too preoccupied with staring each other into submission. She sighed theatrically. Again. "Such ill temper. Tell me, how did two species of otherwise peaceful Dogoo end up going for each other's gel? And why are some stacked on top of one another? Also, Grandogoos were already big, but these two titans truly take the cake."

... Well, no reason to _not_ tell her the truth. I pointed to the... _Dog-goo_ in my lap and started to talk... and, apparently, failed to put any emotion into my voice. "I scratched this fellow's ears." The inevitable silence that followed told me everything I needed to know: That _indecent_ woman didn't believe me or didn't connect the dots. Oh boy, may as well elaborate. "I'm sorta, kinda broke and thought the best kind of action to take was to starve myself into a hospital to get food. To do that, I took a nap, but the little one here poked me awake and begged for food itself. To placate it, I scratched his... its ears instead."

"I... see..." She clearly did not. Troublesome woman.

I continued, an _eeny, tiny_ tint of exasperation worming its way into my voice. " _Somehow,_ that garnered the attention of multiple more representatives of its species and before I knew it, eighteen additional Dogoos and a bipedal tulip-"

" **Dogoo!** " "Vee!"

Wow, _both_ armies and the tulip in question didn't take the word 'tulip' that well... so... "My bad, _a honorable member of the legendary Blue Dogoo Tribe_ ," no objections... interesting, "had joined our company and decided to get their heads scratched, too. Then _members of the Mythical Red Dogoo Syndicate_ ," again, no interruptions, "also started to demand scratching, albeit _a bit_ more aggressively than the others. The blue ones, suddenly _entirely_ bereft of pampering, obviously didn't like that very much and decided to protect their ear scratching rights..."

I exhaled in more noticeable exasperation this time. "Then things escalated into _this_."

Clearly, this statement didn't seem to satisfy the woman in _highly provocative 'clothing'_. "... All this is happening because you scratched a Dogoo's ears? Forgive me, but I find it quite hard to comprehend."

"That makes two of us."

The woman let out a _true_ sigh this time as she stepped forward, giving me a _far too good_ view of her rear, bare back and her long, green ponytail... Wait, what? "Considering your current... slime covered state of being," she began... "I feel inclined to believe your explanation... For now, at least." Well, darn you, too! She brushed her green ponytail back with her right hand, glanced sideways and flashed a... confident (?) smile towards me. "Let's continue this chat _after_ I have dealt with the Dogoo Horde, shall we?" With these words, she raised her right hand towards the sky and... materialized a _giant_ , white and green spear out of midair.

Ignoring the blatant violation of the laws of physics, I raised an eyebrow. "Do you always resolve all your problems with extreme prejudice?"

Her voice... hardened. "These creatures threaten the dear citizens of my nation and, as the CPU of Leanbox, I'll not allow those under my protection to be endangered."

... Leanbox? I'm _pretty_ sure I had heard that name somewhere... possibly... maybe... Also: "CPU? You are a Central Processing Unit? You don't look like some kind of automaton, that's for sure."

She chuckled, but didn't averted her gaze from _her_ enemies-in-the-making. "Console Patron Unit, silly. You must be quite... delirious to forget such a simple fact."

 _Gods,_ does she have to be so... patronizing all the time? And had she forgotten _why_ I sit here in the first place? But just as I was about to verbally retaliate...

She had vanished. One blink with the eyes and she was gone.

Another blink later and a green shining _something_ crashed through the lower ranks of the Red Pirate Dogoos and _exploded_!

... Which caused the entire area to be covered in red slime.

Myself included.

One angry swipe at the gelatinous corpse covering my eyes later I'm able to lay my eyes upon the result of whatever had happened. _Every single_ member of the two hordes apparently shared this intent and gazed upon the sole, _pristine_ person in the middle. "Hmhmhm. My charming smile and unrivaled breasts are certain to grab the enemy's attention."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" These words escaped me faster than my brain could even begin to _think_ about coming up with a proper answer.

I couldn't see it, but I _know_ she was smiling. "Well, of course. After all, not everyone has the pleasure to be as gifted as me." There was definitely a tick-mark growing on my head now. How can someone be this... this... "I would gladly prolong our little chat, but it seems these monsters won't wait any longer. Brace yourselves," her weapon began to glow in a bright green light, " **Sylhet Spear**!"

Slime covered the world...

* * *

\- _Ten Minutes later_ -

Little, extremely-recently-and-without-consent named Gordon the Dogoo was shivering in fear, utterly and thoroughly paralyzed through sheer terror. I couldn't fault him... it for that. The carnage in front of us was more than a little... messy.

The woman that was as _ridiculously overpowered_ as a Norfleet-firing Mechromancer on 600 Anarchy Stacks (... well, maybe not _that_ powerful) had decreased the... numbers of creatures from both armies down to... an orange, clone generating slime, a red, straw-hat wearing Grandogoo, the two _Lordogoo_ s (name still pending) and an unconscious, slime-covered tulip. _Somehow_ , Dogoos dissolve into _bits_ of _friggin' data_ when they... die, but they also _'drop'_ globs of slime.

Globs that instantly explode in all directions because the barely covered _and still miraculously clean_ _nutcase_ _flying through the air_ uses such powerful... skills that these _'drops'_ are _always_ caught in the crossfire. And given the _sheer, absurd amount_ of those splattered ' _glob drops_ '...

I am _so far_ past the point of caring it isn't even funny anymore. I'm more irritated at the fact that the forecast hadn't mentioned a darn _slime rain_.

Little Gordon's base-blue color had changed into _iris purple_! That's how much red and blue slime has fallen on top of us!

Both lords... had seen better days. I'll never quite understand how amorphous beings like them could get bumps on their... head, but they had. Numerous energy spears were sticking in their bodies and they looked to be on the verge of liquidation. The Straw-Grandogoo and the Orange Nuisance stood in front of them, dead-set on protecting their bosses with everything they got. Everything they had left.

The green haired woman, on the other hand, hovered in midair, six pink, holographic, peacock-like wings moving to the beat of an unknown song, a ' _charming_ ' smile on her face.

She looked far too familiar for my tastes. The city behind me looked far too familiar for my tastes. The... Dogoos looked far too familiar for my tastes.

' _I know this place!_ ' something inside me chants with the general intensity of exploding dynamite. ' _I just can't wrap my head around this..._ '

The amorphous creatures were outmatched and they knew it. Whoever this woman was, she had turned a square kilometer of once green pastures into a slimy wasteland. Without breaking a sweat.

 **"... Goo."**

... This call from the red Lord jolted little Gordon back to awareness and... grabbed everyone's attention.

 _"... Goodo?_ " That was the orange one...

"Goodododogoo!" an agitated Red... Grandogoo shouted at its superior.

 **"Googoo."** Blue Kage-Slime-sama had spoken and it became still once again.

Gordon jumped out of my lap, paused, gave me a sad look and then bolted away. The lords jumped high into the sky. The orange one _vanished_. The Red Dogoo with the Straw hat, on the other hand, simply wobbled away, never letting the woman out of its sight as it retreated inlands.

Only the tulip, I and the woman were left.

"...chest has grown larger, too!~"

Great... not.

Alright, it is time to stand up for a change. Get into a crouch, sit up, don't slip on the darn, slippery ground, wipe some more slime off my... everything... squeeze the hair out, swipe the gelatin away again... Darn, I _definitely_ need a bath. A long, _long,_ hot bath. And a change of clothes, too.

And food. And money.

And access to the internet.

And sleep.

Good to know that my priorities are still straight.

...

*sigh*

Might as well grab the tulip and... I dunno, plant it somewhere I guess. It just lays a couple steps away from me... shouldn't be too hard, right?

* * *

 **\- CPU Green Heart (Vert) -**

CPU Green Heart, also known as Vert, masked her unease with a cheerful smile.

What made her uneasy?

Well, that slime covered girl of course.

Blanc mk2.0 (name still pending), for the original had no real assets to speak of, felt... strange. It wasn't the fact that her hair was pinkish red, sky-blue and bright purple colored (though the CPU believed the slimes were responsible for that), that her eyes were of an equally deep blue as Vert's ones in human form or that she didn't seem to wear any shoes, no, it had more to do with her...

... well, she didn't _feel_ right and Vert didn't knew _what_ made the teen so... unnerving. It was like you accidentally stumbled over the entrance to a secret passageway, _realized_ you found a secret passageway, but you just couldn't find the trigger to make the wall move aside. Then you backtrack through the _entire fortress_ , only to find out that the lever to open the secret passageway had been hidden inside _another_ hidden passageway, which, in turn, had been masterfully disguised behind an unassuming painting _inside a hidden room you could only access by jumping into the town's collective latrine and lowering the sewer's water level to open another secret passageway that led to said room!_ And in the end, the reward wasn't even worth it. Only a million gallons of Gold? Vert could grind that much in her sleep! Literally!

But Green Heart digressed.

As she already notified within her thoughts, Blanc mk2.0 was weird. She looked weird, acted weird, smelled weird, had apparently no idea what the divine kind of CPUs were (something which led Vert to believe that the teen might suffer under selective amnesia), most likely lacked basic survival instincts, _somehow lured an army of slimes in front of her city_ without realizing it and had apparently gone into the wilderness without a weapon.

And, well, again, she _felt_ _weird_.

Yet when she tried to investigate further into it, the _feeling_ eluded her notice.

It infuriated her to no end!

 **"YIKES!"**

Green Heart cringed, both mentally and visibly. _'By the might of The Developers- that was louder than it had any right to be!'_

The source of this shout, as expected, happened to be the aforementioned girl. The mystery behind _reason_ as to why she had yelled in the first place also unraveled itself rather quickly: The artificially red, blue and purple haired girl had slipped and, consequently, fell flat on her face. Not only that, but if the blue data-blocks rose towards the sky were any indicator at all, then Vert assumed that Blanc mk2.0's head had impacted with a weakened monster and, as a consequence, crushed it.

Green Heart couldn't help herself: She had to giggle.

This, in response, earned the goddess one of the most condescending glares a seemingly sixteen year old teen could project. However, if you look at the big picture and perceive her current slime covered, bedraggled and disheveled appearance, the glare loses the majority of its severance and, instead, only aides one's imagination in creating the picture of a cute, little Tsundere in distress.

 _Weird presence_ or not, observing the teen turned out to be quite the amusing affair.

But it didn't stop the nagging... _feeling_...

This was like one of these _extremely hard_ Puzzle-Locks on Rare Loot Chests or Hidden Doors she would obsess over _so long_ until she managed to crack it, right? The problem with this train of thought was that Green Heart wouldn't have easy access to guides on Geargle or U(ni)-Tube. Was this predicament really worth the potential effort?

Maybe, maybe not.

In the end, the goddess could always ask the source of this uneasy _feeling_ herself, preferably after consuming some food. Even though the girl's actions were incredibly, mind-bogglingly stupid, the fact of the matter was that the teen seemed to have no money to provide for herself. In the case Blanc mk2.0 truly suffered from (selective) amnesia, it would slightly hamper efforts to make contact with her relatives... She _should_ have parents or, at the very least, a legal guardian, right?

What kind of Side Quest is Vert going to be involved with?

"Uhm..."

Green Heart blinked. It seems that in the amount of time she had been lost within her thoughts the slime covered girl had walked in front of her. Focusing her attention on the younger female, Vert noted that the... bluette tried her absolute best to keep her gaze at the Goddess's _nose_ \- not into her eyes, not on her breasts, not on her perfectly shaped body, not anywhere _but_ on her, no, _it was locked on her nose_ \- and looked visibly pained while doing so. Her obvious nervousness became even more apparent when she began to fidget with _something_ in her hands and when she started to restlessly... hop in place over and over again.

Seeing this, Vert couldn't, in good conscience, call her 'Blanc mk2.0' right now. She had never seen the other CPU act like this girl did now... and doubted she ever will. Yet Vert couldn't help but wonder why exactly _her nose_ would cause such a rapid change in the teen's attitude.

"Do you have a flower pot?"

...

What?

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

Heya.

As mentioned earlier above, _what the hell am I doing?_

This plot-bunny just wouldn't leave me alone and there wasn't a sharp axe within reach to violently slaughter it with, so it got to live for another day and shamelessly multiplied itself. As one may already suspect, it is a shameless semi-self-insert with _one hell of an attitude_ who will, knowing me, either be totally useless or become a Mary-Sue. While I try my best to avoid the extremes, it is better to forewarn potential readers in advance, don't ya think?  
This warning goes double since the insert kinds breaks one of the most important rules in our current society AND follows certain cliches commonly found within this fandom.

Also, knowing me, I probably made Vert a bit OOC, in addition to overlooking obvious grammar and pacing mistakes. Sorry, guys. :/

With that outta the way, let's answer some questions that undoubtedly will be asked at some point or later:

Does the Insert know (s)he's in a fictional Uni-verse? ( _I'm so not sorry about that one._ )  
Short Story: Aye. Sorta.  
Long Story: Most certainly yes, but the insert has _some large gaps_ in her memory. You see, when the idea decided to worm itself inside my head (like the parasite it is) I had already forgotten a good chunk of mk2's (and the sequels') story (and how some of the CPU's transformations looked like, including Green Heart) and decided to base the Insert's own knowledge on that. So while I myself had, after starting this chapter, re-freshened my knowledge of the story, the Insert has to work with information gathered from the original second game, information that is around four years old. Ya know, that one with the 3-D-models? That one.  
In other words: Aye, she'll eventually find out where (s)he got thrown into, but only knows the bare-bones of the plot (and that there's a Conquest-Route to avoid).

 **Romance? Pairings?**  
Don't get ahead of yourselves. Aside from (maybe) throwing Uni ans Steamax together (again, **big** maybe (to make it two-sided)), I'll make no promises. There will be hugs though.  
Definitely no harem though. Sorry guys, but I highly doubt I could ever write an acceptable one, or good ones for that matter.

Why are there Dogoos stacked on top of another? And what's it with the Pirates and Ninjas?  
The Doogoos are, in essence, both a homage to the Dragon Quest Slimes and somewhat represent other slime-mobs found in other games, so I thought 'why not go all the way'? Stacking Dogoos on top of another seemed to be the 'logical' thing to implement when DQ9 did it, too. Then I had the 'Pirates vs. Ninjas' - clichee stuck within my head and couldn't help myself.  
Sorry, guys.

Well, for now, that's it from me for now. I don't know when an Update will hit this story, but I'll _try_ to post a chapter within six months.  
Yes, I'm that unreliable. -_-'

In any case, I look forward to reading your reviews. I'm unable to directly answer Guest-Reviewers, but be assured that I read all of them. I especially like to read constructive criticism and 'talking meta' with other users. You never know what kind of craziness will come forth from long discussions and how many of these crazy ideas find their way into the actual story. It's awesome. :D

Well, then, the Author's Ramble seems to be big enough now and probably add another thousand words to the already existing 5.8K, so I'll wrap this up with... yea, I'll give you a little question to guess on:

What will the Insert use as (a) weapon(s)?  
Tip1: It is nothing conventional.  
Tip2: One of it's kind had been destroyed in 'The Hitchhiker's Guide through the Galaxy'.  
Tip3: It's effective vs Zombies.

I know, this is a mean question, but that last tip might be a dead giveaway. ;)

Thank you for reading my ramble.

* * *

 **Edit 2018.02.28** : Fixed some grammar mistakes, worded some things differently, added one or two sentences and generally did stuff. :D


	2. Prologue - Money Problems?

**Disclaimer** : It's alive! **IT'S ALIVE! (:::)** _Albeit barely. :D_  
And I still own nothin' except my OC.

 **Warning** : Possibly OOC Vert. Rated **R** for **R** eferences. Characters aren't (always) omniscient.

* * *

 **(:::)**

 _- BREAKING NEWS -_

 _After careful consideration and *ahem* an 'introduction' to the sharp end of a wooden Katana the Author read over this chapter again and decided to add more character development at the end... Because he wasn't satisfied with how he handled the stashing of items and all that._

 _So he deleted twenty words and added about one and a half thousand, give or take five hundred. Thus he sincerely apologizes while cowering in a barely intact Bunker._

 _For new readers this might be irrelevant, but readers that already have read through the chapter and don't want to do so again: Don't worry, _**I** _, the Protagonist of protagonists, expertly_ **(:::)** plastered **(:::)** _this chapter back together so everyone knows where the BIG changes started and ended. So, until this chapter regained all it's HP, they'll stay in place._

 _Well, see ya on the second Author's Notes._

 **(:::)**

* * *

 **Multithreading**

 **Prologue: Money Problems?**

* * *

 _ **Last time in Hyperdimension_Multithreading**_

 _"Do you have a flower pot?"_

* * *

Blanc mk2.0  
(name still pending)

"... I actually do."

Aaand the green haired, busty woman reaches behind her _bare_ back and _somehow_ brought a hardened clay pot into existence, even pre-filled with top-of-the-trade potting soil. The pot itself wasn't anything fancy, just a smooth, orange, cone-like shape made of fired clay and... is it as big as my head? Huh...

In any case, the woman with the goddess complex held the pot out for me to take. Naturally I took it, ensuring that my slime covered state continued to only be a descriptor used on me. Seconds later, the bulb of the tragically deceased tulip had been buried in the rich soil, ready to grow into another abomination of Nature.

I also have to note that the pot barely weights a hundred grams, a fourth of a pound. How do they do that?

"Thank you." And I meant it. Even though the woman in front of me had mercilessly slaughtered a huge chunk of the local wildlife with _extreme_ prejudice and, in doing so, _ruined my everything_ , she just had given me something to defend myself with from potential human trafficking. Filled flower pots _hurt_ when you smash them on top of heads. Also, the sentient Tulip that will most likely grow in it can probably do some neat stuff, too.

Not only that, but the slime on me will most likely carry _some_ kind of viral disease and get me sick... which means that I'll be in emergency care far sooner than anticipated. In other words, I won't need to starve myself as much as I anticipated to get free food.

It all makes _perfect_ sense.

"While I can _somehow_ understand your twisted logic, I find it more than disturbing that you would go to such ends just to gain a shoddy meal, an expensive bill and a temporary place to sleep in."

Uh... had I thought that out loud?

"Yes. Yes, you had."

"Darn it."

The woman sighed, crossed her arms underneath her... assets and... glowed?

No, she's about to _By The Frozen Hells! My Eyes! MY EYES!_

Afterimages! Afterimages everywhere!

"Hmm, I might've expended more Share Energy than I thought." Who said that? Was that the shadow in front of me? Well, said shadow seemed to shake what might be its head. "In any case, there is no need to go to such measures _now_. Just harvest all the Dogoo Jelly from the ground here and you should be set for the next year or two. Or you buy a house and earn more, it's your decision."

I stare blankly at the now colorful blob of greenish shadows. "How? I don't have any bottles on me and, even if I did, I could, at most, only carry a dozen of them with me. And considering how many of these Dogoos blob around here, I highly doubt that the dozen bottles would fetch a high price."

The blurry mess shaped like a humanoid most likely raised an eyebrow, considering the slightly puzzled (?) tone her voice had adopted. "Why? You just have to set the setting of your _Dee-es-dee_ to 'Auto-collect' and run up and down the pasture for a bit. The inbuilt replicator will use some of the material to construct the bottles and Slime may be in overabundance, true, but it'll definitely net you a good seven or eight hundred."

I continue to stare blankly at the less blurry woman in front of me, ignoring the fact that she had apparently gotten dressed in a green and white dress, colored her hair a golden blonde and that her voice seemed to be a bit higher pitched. Or, well, _lighter_ pitched.

There was definitely some kind of Dragonball- or Saylor-Moon-bullcrap involved.

Oh, what had she said again? Something about money? Ah, yes, the... slime can be sold... but: "Seven... hundred? Just seven hundred? How in the frozen hells can you afford to _buy_ _a house_ with that little money?"

A chuckle came from her. "No, silly, I'm not talking about pocket change. I'm talking about seven hundred _thousand_. _Plus_ the credit cards the monsters themselves have dropped, which should... add about another quarter to half million?"

 **"WHAT?"**

The lunatic continued, more than likely smirking. "Sure, that's transferred to my account, but _you_ are the person that lured them all together and put yourself in harm's way..." ... is she for real? "...and it is in my best interest to ensure that you, a prospective believer, don't do it again. Dead citizens within viewing range of the Basilicom just ask for PR-disasters to happen and those take quite a lot of time to clean up. Time I can't spent playing Four Goddesses Online."

... What. The. F-

"With one-point-two-million and the low prices for plots on the more rural outer rim of Leanbox, you _should_ be able to buy a nice plot and get multiple companies to build you a modest house with a large garden. That way, you can plant your... exotic seeds and sell the fruits for a large profit."

... u-

"But the best part of all: Should you prove to be decent enough, the sales will grab attention, which will lure more tourists, who, in turn, will see the beauty of Leanbox and, at last, see the error of their ways and shift their prayers of fortune and legendary loot to my gorgeous, benevolent self. My shares will rise off the charts and the other CPUs will have no choice but to acknowledge my superiority, pledge their eternal loyalty to me and beg to be my little sisters..."

... ck?

... Alright, either the universe is imploding or... 'Green Heart' has some serious issues.

Well, let's bring her back from her delusions. "That's all good and so on, but... there's a _tiny_ flaw with all that."

"Hmm?" Had she been sparkling? Gods, why can't the blurriness end once and for all? Well, at least her bubble of insanity had been burst apart.

Well then: "What is a dee-es-dee?"

She stared at me. She most definitely stared at me. I stared blankly back.

Then that irritable chuckle escaped the blonde's hand-covered lips again. "My, my, you _truly_ must've fallen quite hard on your head to forget about the existence of such a basic appliance." There was no doubt that my fury induced high blood pressure caused some kind of blood vessel to plop open somewhere on the back of my head. The less blurry, blue eyed, _smirking_ beauty seemed to ignore it entirely. "Well then, let me enlighten you: Dee-es-dee stands for Digital Storage Device. It is, in the most basic of gaming terms, your inventory. You may find older models here and there in the shape of backpacks or treasure cubes, but the modern ones are small enough that you can either strap them on a belt or wrap them around your wrist. They come in many different colors and carrying capacities, too. Oh, and don't get me started on the ' _limited_ ' editions."

Somehow I just _knew_ she had used _italics_ there. In any case, I let out a single sigh. It was all I could do, really. How would another person from _my_ world react if they heard about something as ridiculous as that?

My overall vision had sharpened to a point that I managed to notice the small frown that marred the young looking woman's face... darn, if I had stayed being a man, I wouldn't even have _dared to_ touch her with a ten foot pole in fear of utterly humiliating myself. She's _way_ above my league.

She also looks _**very**_ familiar.

I... guess that is a bad thing.

Anyway... "So, Hammerspace?"

The blonde nodded, smirking. "Indeed, Hammerspace. Best invention apart from computers, consoles, games, the Internet and pizza service."

... Her apparent fixture on gaming aside (a passion I cannot find any fault in, seeing as I tend...-ed to do the same half a day ago), I have to agree. That IS a very convenient thing to have. Yet... "Well, I don't have one."

"... That cannot be true..." 'Green Heart' muttered. Then, in the blink of an eye, I suddenly found a flat, ivory-colored palm mere _centimeters_ in front of my face, glowing in leafy green luminescence.

"What In The-"

"Hmm, now that is concerning..."

... Oh come on, what now?

"To answer your unasked question," _what in the... is she_ _**psychic**_ _?_ "- you are wearing contacts." _What?_

I tilted my head sideways. "So... I am wearing contacts, which means I either have eye problems or wanted another eye color." Knowing my luck, it's probably the former. "Okay. What has that to do with a... DSD?"

"I wanted to see if you had specific implants that may or may not have connected you to a DSD. Had that been the case, we could have then picked up the frequency, fed it to the Guild's Amplifier and potentially gotten the coordinates of your _potentially_ missing DSD. They would have opened a Search-Quest, allowing you to recuperate while a Guild Agent searched for your belongings. Additionally, should you be part of the ninety-five percent that store their passports, identification papers and identity cards in their DSD, we would have a significantly easier job at contacting your relatives." Here she sighed. "Unfortunately, no implants of any kind could be detected and the contacts are just that: Boring, old, normal contacts." A pause. "Speaking of them..."

Here she swiped her palm over the space in front of my face. A moment later, the entire world around us turned into one blurry mess of colors again. "What in the-"

'Green Heart' continued. "Your eyes don't seem to react kindly to them, if the redness of your sclera is any indication."

I'm _bliiind!_

"No, you are not."

"Stop reading my mind!"

"I don't. It is just written all over your face."

*sigh*

"That reminds me... You truly have not the slightest idea who I am, right?"

I glanced in her general direction, but, after hearing her not-so-quiet sniggering, it was more than likely that I failed. "Apart from being a... part-time superpowered swimsuit-model with a god-complex, having a great fixation on gaming and other M-rated stuff I simply don't want to think about?" When all she did was to simply nod (with that infuriating smile _probably_ plastered on her face), I answered with a shrug while somehow keeping my irritation in check. "No. Clue. Whatsoever."

... Okay, maybe I hadn't kept it in check as much as I wanted to.

"Hmm..." The blonde, blurry person most paused for a bit, apparently ignoring my feelings completely. And Gods, couldn't I have had perfect vision like in my... last life? Stupid body and it's stupid- ***slap*** "Ah, ah, ah, I may not know what you are thinking but, whatever the directions your thoughts take, it is definitely unhealthy."

I... gently touch... my left cheek with the tip of my left index finger. Beyond the sudden burning sensation, I felt nothing. "Did you just slap me?"

"Congratulations Blanc mark two-point-oh!" the... far too cheerful woman exclaimed... excitedly, clapping her hands together. Ugh, it must be _so easy_ for emotionally driven people to decipher another's emotions! "You correctly stated the obvious, an achievement that earns you the right to procreate.~"

*sigh*

"Aaanyways..." ... huh, she seems to be uncomfortable, if the way her voice trailed off is anything to go by. "Well, can you tell me where you may have left your DSD behind? If it is close by, we _may_ be able to retrieve it and won't have to bother with the paperwork that comes with quest permissions."

... Okay, this is getting nowhere. "I am certain that I _never_ had a DSD. Or contacts." Or this body for that matter, but I _think_ I should leave that out for now. "All I know is that, after going to sleep in my very comfortable bed yesterday, I awoke in an unfamiliar riverbed _somewhere_ , found myself in an unfamiliar forest, found out that I'm on an unfamiliar continent... and that all of it was filled with unfamiliar creatures, _very unfamiliar_ settlements and _gods know what else!_ "

* * *

 _~ Meanwhile ~_

 _The Fenrir_ _, the mightiest of all Fenrir, cared not for the Dogs of the Goo...  
For he knew, they were akin to what humans would call The Floo._

 _He would not satiate The Purple One's hunger...  
Such dictates his pride as a hunter._

 _Alas, he asked himself in these uncertain times...  
"Why was his head filled with such infuriating rhymes?"_

 _So baffled was the King of the Plain...  
That he had not noticed that he had been slain._

* * *

Vert  
(Green Heart)

Some of her systems had shut down, ensuring that the awkward smile on her face didn't make way for the appropriate expression Vert would have preferred to don at this moment. No DSD? This teen had NO DSD?

There was _absolutely no way_ that this could be true! _Everyone_ had _at the very least_ a 4k Digital Storage Device these days. Sure, there _are_ some old-fashioned tech-hermits up in the mountains who absolutely refuse to digitally deconstruct their possessions and move everything in Quantum Entanglement Containers instead (because destabilizing the fabrics of Space-Time is **such** a great alternative) but it would have come to her immediate attention if an RNG-forsaken-heavily-armed-and-armored-sixteen-ton- **TRUCK** had been assaulted by a horde of monsters.

And while the girl had irrefutably been assaulted by the largest horde of Doogoos ever recorded in the history of Gamindustri she did _not_ look old enough to have acquired her driver's license... or finished school. How old was she? Fifteen? Sixteen?

"What?" the _enigma_ in front of her responded, sounding rather indignant. "Is it _that_ unusual to **not** have one of these things when you _wake up in a Gods-darn other world?_ "

... Wait, what?

Did she hear that right? "Can you... repeat that, please?"

... Oh by the Goddess of RNG, the girl more than likely burst another blood vessel. "I. Am. From. Another. Reality!"

...

Vert clasped her hand together, smiling cheerfully. "No wonder you felt strange."

As expected, that declaration caught the young (near-sighted) teen off guard. "Huh?"

Suppressing her inner urge to don glasses and go into full-blown Principal-Worthy Lecture Mode, Vert, instead, just materialized a whiteboard from her 64Gig DSD (as loathe as she was to admit, Gearworks - and, in extension, Planeptune R&D - made more technological advancements than all other nations _combined_ ) and began to fall into Circumstantial Lecture Mode. "Every extra-dimensional entity, be they humanoid or not, go through something akin to a Software Check before they are truly integrated into our world. You wouldn't want to have faulty code to completely deconstruct you OS and tear your valuable Save Data into incomprehensive shreds just because you have let a virus through, would you?"

"Uh... I don't like where this is going..."

Vert giggled. "Don't worry too much, the fact that you are living, breathing and making terrible decisions-" " **Hey!** " "-indicates that you are through the critical phase. As for the strange signature you are emitting..." Here Vert wasn't _too sure_ , but she would give the girl the best explanations she had, "Now... take it with a grain of salt, but I _think_ the world either tries to adjust your body to properly supply Share Energy or there are still some minor glitches or the last shreds of corrupt code to iron out. Both could be the case, too."

"Glitches? Corrupt code?"

The CPU of Leanbox made a so-so gesture, knowing it would irritate young Blanc mk2.0 to no end... even if she could not really see it. "You know, there are mainly two Operating Systems used by the common folk." The girl nodded carefully at that. Interesting. "The most commonly used is Ventus-"

The teen snorted at that but refrained from saying anything.

Coughing awkwardly, Vert continued. "... and the Open Source OS Tune_X."

"Tunix?"

"T - U - N - E - underscore - X."

The girl held one of her hands against her brow . "I have some major case of déjà-vu right now and I know exactly why."

"In any case" the CPU proceeded, "to use exclusive programs made for either systems on the other one, you need the right drivers. If you don't, then, obviously, the program either won't work or, in the worst case scenario, do irreparable damage on your computer... which, obviously, shouldn't happen in the first place, but I digress. And, obviously, this problem would be even more noticeable if you try to install a very ancient program on a Ventus-9 based high-end machine for example."

"Still don't like where this is going."

Green Heart clapped her hands together, starting the girl in the process. A light, cheerful smile graced her lips. "As I mentioned, I come to the conclusion that the world _probably_ tries to completely integrate you and that some minor leftover glitches are still being ironed out. I know of one other case where a girl from another dimension landed in this one who, apparently, had been more on the chubbier side before her transition... at least that was what Noire had shared with us. And by the RNG-Goddess, she looks _gooood_."

Something akin to... dread appeared on the teen's face and her voice became very, _very_... quiet. "Are... are the changes... permanent?"

"... As far as I know, yes."

And thus the girl hung her head downcast and began to mumble. "Great... now I have to deal with girl problems and perverts."

Unfortunately for the teen, Vert could understand her perfectly... and found out that her ever-growing grin attempted to split her face in half. "Are... are you saying..."

Like a deer caught in the headlights, the adorable face of denial the young Wannabe-Tsundere-Blanc sprouted was more than just predictable. "... no?"

* * *

 _~ Meanwhile ~_

 _The purple One, the Hero to avert certain doom  
stared far and wide, ignoring the cherry blossoms bloom._

 _On a mighty hill, somewhere in the green pastures of Crossed Pride  
a princess lay, oblivious to the dangers that hide._

 _Out of the shadows, an evil glint in their eye,  
a voluptuous, malevolent, cackling presence emerged, ready to claim their prize-_

Blanc, CPU of Lowee, sighed.

It seems that writing rhymes on an empty stomach was not a great idea. She would have to continue another time.

* * *

Blanc mk2.0  
(name still pending)

"STOP LAUGHING!"

* * *

Laaate Night

After the generously gifted (and equally indecent) woman with the god complex collected the goo left on the ground (a task which, apparently, she had attempted to dump on me before she found out that I don't have access to Hammerspace) she oh-so generously offered me a tour around the capital of Leanbox. The only problems I had with that where  
 **A** : she didn't wait for my answer and  
 **B** : I got to know the absolute nightmare that disguised itself as a late-night shopping spree.

(It also appeared that Vert harbored light sadistic tendencies IN ADDITION to a loosely suppressed perverted persona.)  
(Perverted...)  
(Per-Vert-ed...)  
(God-darn-it! Get that out of my darn head!)

And, well, she used more than ninety percent of the money made from the massacred amorphous grassland critters to pay for it all. I have no idea what they call their currency. Nep-Credits? Was it that? Anyways, considering that Vert had, all in all, made one and a half million today... I think that speaks _volumes_ of the Supermodel-with-a-God-complex's overall capabilities to throw money around.

My personal Highlight of this trip: After dragging us through a public sauna with the sole intention to embarrass me (and give me the opportunity to wash myself I guess...), the crazy woman bought three monstrous Gaming PCs, _each_ with 256 RAM, four top-of-the-line Graphics Cards AND (of course) Water Cooling _._ I still have no clue where she found the components and I was in the same friggin' store as her, never more than three steps away!

Ugh.

Though... I can't say this trip hadn't been productive. I'm now proud owner of a Gearworks-Smartphone (the software is _so much easier_ to navigate through than the Noirphone-counterparts), I found out you could "equip" hair colors - something I took immediate advantage of by coloring my once slime-soaked hair to a coppery red -, Vert encouraged (read: forced) me to ditch my ruined clothes and wear more _daring_ clothing (fortunately, I managed to coax her into buying a coat for me afterwards), we _somehow_ found a perfect pair of glasses _without_ waiting for hours on end (I call HAX), evaded a horde of the CPU's fanboys (and -girls), and, at last, sat ourselves outside of a fast food shack ( I refuse to call it anything else) that, for reasons which don't make themselves known to me, is still open at one in the morning.

"Well, this was most certainly an enjoyable experience." Vert commented out of the blue, "This may sound like blasphemy, but it seems that taking a short break from raiding and grinding every once in a while significantly reduces the stress levels of everyone involved and greatly increases overall efficiency and morale. Maybe I should reserve five hours of RL-questing for every week if it improves my mental health and general Micro."

... It seems that my decision to pour the stuff they call 'Nep Bull' into the nearest trash can may have been one of my better choices if the current, blabbering state of mind my lunatic company shows is anything to go by. Her ravings don't make much sense, either: How in the world(s) does a simple consumable good, a RNG forsaken _energy drink_ at that, speed up the thought process without impairing tactical judgment?

Then again, I'm prejudiced. I much prefer the taste of some cocoa milk over some sugar soaked concoction, despite the fact that a large buildup of the acids in the milk _may_ cause osteoporosis in the later stages of life.

"This day certainly was... an experience." I answer... neutrally. But hey, how exactly should I feel about all the sh-stuff... yesterday threw at me? Another world, another body, green pastures filled with amorphous pups in desperate need of pampering, meeting either a supermodel with a god complex or a _courtesan_ with a god complex, the theory that switching planes of existence _may_ cause glitches and a mad journey _which shall not be spoken of - ever -_ through the shopping district of a foreign capital city...

Well, I got a good notebook with a descent _active_ cooling system, complete with a one-twenty-eight gigabyte solid state drive, good graphics, good CPU (the real kind, not the one with the god complex) and an one terabyte hard disk drive... and the components to build a copy of one of the monstrous systems Vert had put together. I'll probably only use the second system mostly for indie games and all that, but hey: for the next six months, I could theoretically play _anything_ on the highest settings.

"I'm curious though," Vert inquired, "Why were you insisting on only acquiring the individual parts of your PC instead of buying the finished version?"

I swallow the rest of my fries and answer her honestly. "Simple: I enjoy constructing the PCs myself and, usually, it is a bit cheaper than buying pre-built versions. That and I don't have to deal with the firmware, though installing all the needed software can be a bit of a pain."

"I can see the allure. However, after a failed attempt based solely on my own ineptitude with water coolants, I prefer to merely compile a list of all the components I wish to be used and let the system be assembled by a carefully selected professional instead."

I take a sip from my paper cup o' water and nod, glad to be able to actually partake in a conversation for once. "I, myself, prefer to use fans instead, solely because I'm of the opinion that mixing fluids with electrical circuits just asks for a disaster to happen. But I must concede, the results speak for themselves."

Vert nodded in acknowledgement. "Indeed, installing a fluid based coolant system does run the risk of potentially ruining everything if done incorrectly, but it is silent, the energy drain is greatly reduced and the cooling stays constant even in unusually hot weather..."

"... That and the vans wouldn't be clogged up with dust."

For the barest of moments, Vert had a puzzled expression on her face before the telltale tells of recognition surfaced. "That is actually a valid point. Unless you take the time to give your system a proper cleanup every once in a while the life expectancy of the components can be drastically reduced... especially if you don't bother to clean your room."

I sigh. "Please refrain from reading my thoughts."

"I don't. Yet, If I interpret your reaction correctly, I now know that you... tend to leave the vacuum cleaner untouched."

Darn it.

"But I'm the last person to advise you on such topics, seeing as Chica always does it for me." Vert reaches for her _eleventh_ triple-beef-cheese burger and proceeds to _erase_ it's very _concept of being_ from this plane of existence.

She was done within the blink of an eye.

While I marvel at this mind-imploding feat in blatant disbelieve (once again) the _demonic_ being clad in green starts another conversation, openly grinning at the open mouthed expression I most certainly donned. "You make the funniest expressions, you know that, right?"

I close my mouth.

"Well then, now that you are equipped with all the essential items a young and upstanding citizen of Leanbox needs..." I couldn't help but snort at that declaration, "it is now important to find a profession that allows you to be... self-sufficient."

Oh no... "I... I have to find a job."

"Yes."

"And... write job applications."

"I suppose you could call them that."

"Then... I have to attend job interviews..."

"Most likely."

And thus I let my head crash on the table. "Oh PLEASE kill me now!"

"No." All mirth abandons her face as Vert... goes into a state commonly referred to as 'Lecture Mode' if I'm not mistaken. "As an upstanding citizen of Leanbox it is your responsibility to take care of your own immediate needs. If you truly wish to throw your life away, you may as well reduce the overall number of the local mob camps as a Guild Agent or seek employment in the Red Light District."

What?

... Also, wait a bit... "Wasn't I supposed to become a farmer?"

"Weeell..." the swimsuit model began, more than slightly sheepish if my guess is right. I won't like her reply, will I? "you know I made a killing of over a million Credits, right." I slowly nod. I was there when she literally flooded the stock exchange with the jars o' slime jelly. How the clerk possibly had that much money I'll never know. "Now... there is a nice patch of land barely an hour's walk southwards, far enough away from any major population centers that traffic is almost nonexistent, yet close enough that you can quickly reach the next supermarket to get your essentials."

"Yes, you showed me on Go... Geargle Maps."

"So, how do I put this... the property is right on the edge of Carbon Hills..."

... I have the slight suspicion that this should have answered my question, yet it does not. "Can you elaborate?"

"and... we might have _slightly_ mismanaged with our funds..."

Technically, these were still her funds since it was her who brutally slaughtered innocent dog-like creatures and I had never gotten any money from her, even though she wanted to give a million to me for _reasons I cannot comprehend_ , but okay...

"and I might have had a bit too much fun when I dressed you up in swim wear,-"

"They barely covered anything."

"dresses,-"

"They were _far_ too tight."

"sport clothes,-"

"Which just wouldn't stay in place..."

"casual wear,-"

"Where you adamantly refused to give me anything that covered my midriff or knees."

"winter gear,-

"Where you _also_ adamantly refused to give me anything that covered my midriff or knees!"

"night clothes,-"

"They are translucent!"

"formal attire,-"

"You nearly asphyxiated me with a friggin' corset!"

"and when we went into that shoemaker's shop-"

"I swear, the next time _anyone_ forces me to wear heels-"

"the visit to the hair stylist may also have left a hole in the pocket,-"

"That guy didn't change anything _and_ charged fifty thousand for each of us!"

"and I may or may not have invested into the local economy to increase my shares-"

"Well, that orphanage won't have any money problems anytime soon..."

"buuut yes, you may not have enough money to buy that plot now."

... I shouldn't have expected anything else, should I? "So... How expensive was that plot anyway?"

Here she winced. Not a good sign. "Give or take? A million."

... Okay, that _is_ a friggin' lot. "Is there a reason why?"

And suddenly, without any warning at all, her pained expression changed into one of cheerfulness. "It is the only plot where you have direct, unobstructed sight onto my mansion.~" A sly grin grew on her face as she brought her arms underneath her... assets. "Specifically, you have unobstructed sight onto my bathroom. And my private hotspring.~"

I stare expressionless at her.

She stares back, eyes full of mirth.

" _You_ are selling that plot."

"Yep.~"

"Then why are you making such a big deal out of this whole thing?"

"Even a goddess as gifted as I can succumb to the eternal enemy commonly known to mankind as the devilish Ancient Evil Boredom.~"

At this point, it wouldn't surprise me if my expression was as flat as paper. "So, all in all, you enjoy trolling me."

"And I appreciate your willingness to endure my antics." The woman... giggled. Hoh boy, I really shouldn't expect anything else, don't I. "No, you shouldn't."

A sigh escapes me. Darn psychic. "So... since you more or less insist that I get my own property, should I look elsewhere or is my misery for whatever reason entertaining enough to give me some form of discount?"

Aaand she's smiling apologetically again. Or at least I think she is. "I'm sorry, but as entertaining as our date may have been" WHAT? "- I will not give you a discount on the land. A million for a square kilometer within this prime location is quite cheap though, if I may say so myself."

Alright. "I'll look for alternatives in the morning then."

Vert raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't even try to get your hands on such an exclusive location?"

It appears I sigh again. "Vert, I am broke. I don't have money. I don't have enough knowledge about this world to properly survive. How can I realistically get the funds together to buy an oversized and possibly overpriced peeping spot for a plot?"

Her answer was swift. "Red Light District or Guild Agent."

"I doubt my body is valuable enough to justify such a high price."

She gave me a flat look. "With that kind of disposition you won't be able to charge that much. Ever. I also find it more than disturbing that you, one of the most prude persons I got to know, would actually consider selling your body for cheap... especially since you seem to be violent _and_ rational enough to make a good Guild Agent."

"I'm not that good at unraveling murder plots."

Aaand the supermodel with the god complex is staring at me as if I had grown a second head (again). Yet mere seconds later, her eyes lit up with... I guess it could be called 'recognition' or 'realization' before she, at last, face-palmed. "I forget that you have next to no knowledge about this world." The woman then proceeded to stare directly into my eyes... this is uncomfortable... "You have played RPGs before." It wasn't a question. It was a simple statement. I nod, focusing my sight on a far sign to the left of her face to escape her stare. Eyes are creepy, I tell you. "Good. As you know, in RPGs the Main Character and, in extension, the Player Party are able to complete side quests for various NPCs to gain benefits such as EXP, Money and various Items of varying quality. To put it simply, that is exactly what Guild Agents do in this world."

"So... we are living in a giant RPG of sorts?"

Vert smiled. "Precisely."

I stare at the Street sign far in the distance, visible just right next to the blonde woman's face. Vert stares back.

In the end, I did the polite thing and accepted her mad ravings. "Well, I guess that's one way to look at things I guess."

The self proclaimed goddess didn't seem to be upset about my dismissal and, instead, got _that glint_ in her eyes again. She sighed _theatrically_."It is such a good paying job, too, especially if you put in enough effort. If you are really driven, you could manage to get the one million together in less than a month."

"Provided I skip buying food altogether, sleep beneath the stars and sell all my organs, I presume."

Vert visibly pondered over that for a bit. "Well, I might have exaggerated _a bit_ , but that's essentially how long it takes for me. Using normal methods, that is."

I stare flatly at her nose. "You are chugging out energy spears left and right as if they were candy. Of course you can."

Hearing this, the crazed bombshell crossed her arms underneath her... assets and smirked in her sly way. "My, my, such flattery. One would think you were trying to court me."

I raised an eyebrow, fixing my gaze on the air right above her hair.

She pouted. "That is just rude. My breasts are right here, you know."

Hmm, the antique store thingy on the other side of the street became suddenly quite interesting.

A clap of her hands had me turn to her (general direction) again. "Well then, it is one and a half in the morning. Unless you want to stay in a shady motel or sleep underneath the stars, it would be better if you sleep at my place for the night. And then, in the morning, we register you at the guild and I'll give you a proper tutorial. How does that sound?"

... "Why are you doing that for me? I'm a total stranger to you." Seriously, _why_ is she doing all this? I don't get it!

 **(:::)**

The white and greed clad woman just smiled. "It is quite simple, really. You are easy to tease."

What? "That can't be the only reason."

"Of course not." Instead of elaborating, the blonde woman presented... some kind of... I guess 'amulet' would be the fitting descriptor, but, considering that my knowledge about jewelry is... nonexistent, I am more than likely wrong. It was a thin, yet long, bright green glowing crystal encased in... white plastic? No, it looks like some kind of white-ish or silver-y metal. (Colored) Aluminum? Well the gem, cuboid with rounded edges in shape, seems to be... what, five centimeters long? Around two inches? It's width seems to hover around one centimeter though, or zero-point-three inches for every american that decided to read my darn mind. It is definitely slightly thicker than my new thrice-darned pinkie-finger in any case.

The gem had been fixed to some kind of black ribbon band thingy... made of carbon fibers? I have no friggin' Idea, so I'll just go with it. In any case, the ends of the 'ribbon-band' were both seemingly _fused_ to the very 'upper' end of the crystal... or the casing. The 'loop' they made was long (or big) enough to comfortably stick one's head through the empty space in between.

Yet, inspecting the green gem further, I found something utterly... fascinating. If one looked closely, very, _very_ closely, one could see an endless amount of crisscrossing patterns that looked _eerily similar_ to circuitry. Scratch that thought, the patterns _are_ circuitry!

So utterly... mesmerized I was with this... masterpiece I hadn't even registered that... Green Heart had moved from her seat and thrown the band over my head up until the... 'carbon fiber ribbon band' had touched the skin of my neck.

Startled, I stiffened. She's too close, she's too close, she'stooclose-

Vert... gently grabs (?) my artificially red hair that's apparently long enough to cover my shoulder blades and... oh, I guess she wanted to free the strands from the band and... loop them over? I can't think straight, _she'sinsidemycomfortzone_!

Now, the woman... gently grabs the encased crystal, one finger touching the end of the casing of the artificial gem and... _THE BAND CONSTRICTS!_

..?

And... stopped a few seconds... later?

Where... before the... 'loop' of 'Carbon fiber' could be easily moved over my head, it is now _just_ a little too small to... well, do it at all, with the fiber-band-thing now framing a perfect V-like neckline thing at which's end the crystal hung.

Afterwards, she stepped back to her side of the table (Thank the Gods!), but not before placing something else in front of me. She gave me a genuine (!) smile. "Congratulations on acquiring your first DSD. The memory crystal you now proudly wear holds up to sixteen Gigs' of of data... which is clear overkill, I assure you." She giggled at that. "Seriously, you could deposit entire mountains in that thing and _still_ have some space to spare." The woman then motioned for me to look at the... digital watch(?) on the table. Wait a bit...

"Is that a Smartwatch?"

The part-time-swimsuit-model's smile grew. "Indeed. It can be linked to both your phone and your DSD, something I already took care of for you."

Slowly and carefully I grabbed the... clearly advanced piece of technology. The square display had a slight curve to it and couldn't be thicker than... what, two and a half _millimeters_? It's 'band' seems to consist out of the 'carbon-fiber'-like material as the band holding the crystal in place...

At Vert's... expectant look, I stuck my left hand through the... gap? Ugh, it's far too late... well, I did that and watched how the... four centimeters wide band of the wristwatch adjusted itself to my skinny... wrist's width. Not ten seconds later, the four by four centimeters big screen had been firmly fixed to my arm, yet it felt... comfortable. It sat just firm enough on my arm that it wouldn't be displaced should I move my arm just-so, yet it was also loose enough to be... not there. Seriously, that entire thing was one and three fifths inches wide and I couldn't actually _feel_ it's contact on my skin.

I'm unsure if that is a good thing or not.

"Well then," Vert startled me out of my... wonder, making me look at her (general direction) again, "now that you finished ogling your new accessories, please tap a finger on your watch." I did so and saw the display activate. According to the watch it was currently one-thirty-five in the morning, the temperature sat at comfortable sixteen degrees Celsius and there were a few clouds obstructing the night's sky. "Now, switch to the left page." One small finger movement from the left side of the screen to the right later I found myself staring at a big, screen encompassing, green colored App called 'Inventory'.

I promptly tapped on it.

The instant I did, a holographic, half-transparent screen opened in front of me, proudly displaying the 'Favorites'-section of an Inventory-window straight out of a futuristic RPG. Currently, the only things displayed were my newly acquired 'Gaming'-Notebook/Laptop/whatever the heck it is called nowadays, a '50% off'-token for a 'Leanbox 420'-console, my 'Casualist's Flower Pot [Pink Tulip]' (which had, apparently, a 21Atk modifier), a pair of black-rimmed, oblong, rectangle-shaped glasses (which, if I guess the green glow and the tiny, yellow head symbol on the upper right corner correctly, are currently equipped) and..., at last...

"Why is there a Yaoi-Manga in there?"

"Ah, so _there_ is where it went." Of course. Why am I surprised? Well, I guess I can give her a free pass on this... this time, at the very least. She had given me a device to open a friggin' Hammerspace, after all. And to her credit, she looked apologetic... slightly. It's a bit hard to tell with the shit-eating grin she's trying (and failing) to suppress. "Well, I guess this gives us the chance to give you a small tutorial. Tap on the book an immitate a 'grabbing'-motion, as if you would take out the cover of a Game out of the shelf."

"I... guess that's a fitting metaphor here," I muttered as I 'grabbed' the... manga. A tiny flash of multicolored light later I held the... _thing_ in my hand and, well, handed it to the young (looking) woman.

Who promptly tapped the green gem on her ribbon to open an inventory of her own and stored the... graphic material there.

She smiled. "Good." She then reached _through_ her own holographic representation of her 'inventory' to point at the other categories to the right of _my_ 'Favorites'... "Now, switch to the 'Apparel'-section, please." I did... and got a good look at the fruits of our mad dash through the shopping district. 'Scrolling' down, the screen displayed both clothing I had been forced into (primarily the skimpy ones) and clothes I _hadn't_ worn before (apparel that actually _covered_ _skin_ ).

I... am unsure how I should react to that. Should I be awed? Should I scream in outrage? Should I feel thankful? Or should I be indifferent to it all?

In the end, I settled on indecisiveness.

The clap of two hands returns my attention to the questionably sane woman. "As you can see, the fruits of our holy crusade through the leanboxian commercial district have been safely deposited in their respective owner's DSDs... Just remember to put your meals in some form of container first... lest the retrieval will be more than unpleasant."

I... tilt my head. "I'll... keep that in mind?"

Vert just nodded. "You better do. The time needed to get the ketchup out of-" she shook her head. "In any case, towards the top left of your Inventory screen should be a small, separate 'Menu'-point with the Name 'Credits', right? Please tap on it."

Nodding again, I touch the (quite obvious) 'button' and find myself staring at at the infinite riches of Absolutely Nothing. *sigh*, it's as if it was yesterday when i woke up with nothing to my name but the clothes on my body... well, with the obvious exception that I _now_ have access to a lot of material possessions and the most awesome gemstone in existence!

"Now, now, you shouldn't proclaim such things to the world before you got the chance to touch a sharicite crystal. Not _those_ are something else." Woops, talked out loud again... and sharicite? Where have I heard that again? Seriously, there's some big revelation on the very edge of my conscious mind and it still has the audacity to elude my grasp!

Once again, the part-time underwear-model brings me back to this version of reality by placing something in front of me.

This time, it is a... snow white card with a black rimmed emerald green stripe on the lower half and a stylized, purple 'C', also bordered in black, on the upper right. A 'Credit'-card in the literal sense?

"Indeed, it is.~" the cheerful voice of a certain bombshell with a god complex announces. Apparently I was talking out loud again.

The woman gave me a genuine, soft smile. "Well then, as promised, here's your reward for assisting me in the extermination of the largest Doogoo-horde ever recorded in the history of my nation. Don't spend it all at once. ~"

Nodding cautiously, I... placed the card into the 'Input'-slot of the holographic interface. It promptly vanished and I found a small notification popping up on the left corner of the small screen.

+ **100,000 Credits**

 **(:::)**

"So, after... our mad dash through the shopping district, that's the remains of the one point five million?" I questioned out loud after closing all screens. Hoh boy, considering the rate she spends money I don't want to be in the shoes of her boy- (or girl-)friend.

I'm not upset. Just curious. A fact which Vert seemed to be able to pick up, yet she shook her head, still smiling. "No, that is your half."

Puzzled, I tilt my head again. "Half?"

Her features slightly softened. "I might have been a bit optimistic when I took an uneducated guess at first. We only got two hundred thousand Credits."

The look I must've given her then and there must have been one of incredulousness... or something. "Then... with what did you... pay all this..."

This time, the smile she gave me was _truly_ genuine, though her eyes were still filled with a hint of mischief. "Come, let's get a good night's rest. We can still get you properly situated once I get Chika to calm down."

What? She can't just leave my questions unanswered like that! Why has she done all that for a complete stranger? Why did she choose to show me that plot in particular? And what about repay-

"And don't worry about repaying any kind of debt. Those photos are more than worth the price.~"

"WHAT?"

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 **I'm alive!**

 ***get's shot***

Outch...

But finally - FINALLY - I managed to get this chapter out. I wrote at least two different versions of this chapter before throwing them out of the window since they just didn't _feel_ right and... and I'm starting to ramble. Bad me. BAD!

I hope I didn't make Vert TOO OoC (Out of Character) here. It is very likely that I went over the top at times, but I do hope I managed a passable job when I wrote hersection... and her dialogue. I might also have slipped a bit of Yukari into her character since I read a lot of Touhou Project Crossovers lately.

(Also, if you are one of the few that actually wanted this story to continue, thank my Graphics Card, for if it hadn't ceased it's existence, I would still be playing StarCraft II)

And thank you all for your wonderful Reviews. Never thought anyone would actually read this ***beep***

Anyway, let's answer a question that may or may not be asked:

 **Woot? Who's the other OC-character that got thrown into th** **e** **Hyperdimension?**  
Nope. There's just an unimportant NPC-character you may converse with on the Qverworld Map in RE: mk2 who alludes that she came from another world. The Random Number Goddess knows what's her name, but I do remember that she exists and hangs around somewhere in the area of Lastation... at first at the very least. I just took some more liberties when I wrote about her.

 **Whaaat? The OC is glitched out foreign Data? Are you really going with such an explanation?**  
Aye... Nay... Something in between. I wrote how Vert might explain it influenced with her uneducated opinion. Meaning she told the OC what is for Vert the most likely reason why said OC now has curves instead of a ***beep***

 **When am I becoming the Main Protag again? C'mon, you wan** **t it too!** **Think of all the Pudding!**  
Not today. Not in ten Chapters. Definitely Not anytime soon. I may throw in an Onmake or twelve... aaand I should probably run.

Well then, I hope I could put a smile on your faces. I also hope I get the next update out earlier, but I can't promise anything. I have a lot of things to sort out in Real Life. :/

Up til next time  
And thank you for reading my ramble.

 ***runs away screaming while clumsily dodging Katana Swipes***

* * *

 **(:::)** _Author's Notes, Take two!_ **(:::)**

* * *

 _So, that's that, about one and a half thousand words more content, two hundred of them from the note I left on top and there's a giant bowl of pudding with my name on it! Please don't be too harsh with the Author, he barely knows what he's doing and even now does a barely acceptable job of writing my dialogue, but he tries. That should be enough reasons to not outright kill him on first sight._

 _So viewers, now band together and pay Blanc a visit! With the right choice of words she'll kick his lazy butt into overdrive and-_

...

 _Now that's just rude. He deleted my text!_

 _Anyway, as you might have found out: Yes, the OC uses a Flower Pot as her Main Weapon... and´, in extension, the flowers in it. Definitely nothing conventional, one of it's kind fell from orbit alongside a whale in the hitchhiker's guide through the galaxy and mutated plants, as everyone knows, are a great way to prevent a Zombie Horde from storming your backyard... or the roof._

 _It's different, I give him that._

 _Well then, let's give you guys another question to chew on... for hopefully less than seven months._

 _When will I be formerly intro-_

 _..._

 _Aw, come on!_

 _Alright, here's the right question:_

 _The OC will eventually be part of the Main Cast and (thanks to the Author reading too much Touhou and thinking that everyone dealing with flowers is automatically a Badass) will thus have her own... combat style. However..._

What will she actually do in combat? What is her 'Role'?  
Tip 1: She will not be high on DPS.  
Tip 2: She will not be actively tanking.  
Tip 3: All her attacks will have an effect.  
Tip 4: _Remember, she's a Dog Person.~_  
Tip 5: _Remember, a flower grows in her pot.~_  
Tip 6: _Remember, she can get quite irritated.~_  
Tip 7: "What happens if you kick someone in the lower regions? Perverted males in particular?"

 _Well, you'll see next time in another Chapter of_ Hyperdimension_Multithreading...

 _See ya next time!_

 _(Well then... I see pudding~)_


	3. Prologue - Officials? Yea, of course

**Multithreading**

 **Prologue: Officials? Yea, right, of course...**

* * *

 _And thus, after the author_ _ **finally**_ _got his butt in gear, the ridiculously well-endowed CPU of Leanbox invited our annoying, highly irritable and currently mentally confused OC to her estate... where Chika opened the door with a bit more zeal than usual and rammed the new girl into a wall._

 _Not only did this knock her out, the resulting concussion, it also neatly erased the teen's memories of the transitional scene the Author was unable to properly write. So it befell onto me, the Main-Protag, to give you all a little recap and shamelessly claim my fair share of screen time._

 _Enough of that, though. You all are here to read more about the misadventures of an OC who complains about every single thing within sight... Not about poor old me, the Protagonist other protagonists dream to be, the one and only-_

 _ **Pudding! ~**_

* * *

 _ **"Beep - Beep - Beep - Beep -"**_

Ugh... Stupid alarm clocks and their... stupid habit of waking up all within stupid... hearing range…

 _ **"Beep - Beep - Beep - Beep -"**_

... where's that stupid... thing... gotta silence it…

 _ **"BeepBeep - BeepBeep - BeepBeep -"**_

Air, air... more air... ugh, it should be-

 _ **"BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep -"**_

" _GODS,_ _STOP THIS_ **INFERNAL** _ **NOISE**_!"

 *** _Thud_ ***

"Ohw... ohwowowowow..."

 _ **"BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep -"**_

Ugh... my head hurts... and the alarm still rings... and everything's blurry, even the white-green carpet-thing... wasn't that blue before? Ugh, stupid, comfortable, abominable abomination spawned by abominable abominations…

... Well, I'm awake. Kinda. Falling from your bed does have that side effect.

…

Wait a second…

That carpet doesn't feel like it belongs to me. Far too soft, way too fluffy and there's _no_ dust accumulated on it.

Wherever I am also doesn't smell and feel like home. At all. _My room_ is _normally_ cold, dusty and smells like… well, Home. _This place_ on the other hand is warm, clean and smells like bloody chamomile. _Excessive_ amounts of bloody chamomile.

Conclusion: I'm not home, the bed I have fallen out of isn't mine and I probably did something outrageously stupid to earn some kind of concussion. That and the bedcovers have faithfully followed me to the ground, poorly hiding my body from the world at large, but instead prevent me from seeing anything but green fabric with white... _blobs_ on it. _Blurry_ blobs.

(I _think_ the blobs resemble some kind of... petals?)

And the alarm's still trying to raise the dead…

* _ **grroawmn**_ *

Ugh... And I feel like I haven't properly eaten for a day and my throat is very, _very_ dry…

…

Is this still part of that one fever dream from the day before? If yes, then the guys up there _better_ invest in proper ten-forty HD next time. Stingy old…

…

Wait, the same fever-dream also switched my gender, didn't it?

…

Yes, it did... It so friggin' did... and, to conserve whatever's left of my sanity, I better cease to think too much about it.

 _ **"Beep-..."**_

Huh. The alarm deactivated itself. It'll probably start again in five minutes or so, though. I could either continue sleeping on the ground here, get the body back into the bed or start the day like every other normal person that fell out of the bed. The last two choices require me to get on my feet though... yet on the other hand, the carpet gets more and more uncomfortable with every passing minute…

" _Yaaawn..._ " ***** _ **grroawmn**_ *****

... Seems like I have to properly wake up. My body demands food and cocoa milk and so, decreed by the highest authority currently buried underneath these bedcovers, it shall be done.

…

After five minutes more sleep, that is.

 ***** _ **Clack-click**_ *****

Ooor not. If I interpret the sound correctly, then someone just opened a door - probably the one leading into this room. Further information is required to accurately guess if my presence here is known to the household or not. Should the latter be the case, this will definitely end in an awkward encounter and, possibly, me being sent to prison. To make matters worse, further questions would arise as to how I ended up in this position in the first place, which would end in really, really awkward scenarios. Should the first case proof to be true though, then there's probably someone who wants to collect a ' _reward_ ' for hauling my lazy butt to (relative) safety.

Ugh... _definitely_ don't want to think about that. Too much headache, too much hurt.

"So... you _are_ awake."

Female voice, relatively high pitch. Doesn't sound particularly happy about me existing. Also, she _somehow_ came off as a person with an 'I'm superior than you and have clearly better things to do than to check up on your sorry state.'- kinda- vibe- like- personality-thingy going on... or I'm just reading too much into the first four words she had spoken to me. I'm still underneath the bed covers for crying out loud and thus should wait before I start to make an (un-)educated statement.

" _My_ darling Vert wishes to speak with you." Holy hell, her voice sounds so frosty that she must've had frozen over half of the countryside right now.

Also, darling who now? All I remember from my fever-dream is that I asked a very skimpily clad, busty woman (who, if I remember right, so happened to commit mass-murder on a bunch of amorphous, multi-colored blobs with dog-appendages) if she had a flower pot. Next thing I know, I get dragged through a man's worst nightmare: Being subjected to a female's shopping spree and being forcefully dressed in women's clothing.

Skimpy women's clothing.

(A small part of my mind thinks that I might be _slightly_ unfair and _a bit_ biased with my overall view of the situation. The major portion of my brain nods along, soaks the smaller part in gasoline, drops a lit matchstick, leaves the area and continues with what it had done before.)

…

Ah, now I know. Vert, the swimsuit model with a god complex.

Welp, can't help it, may as well poke my head from underneath the covers and WHY IS THE SUN SO BRIGHT? MY EYES!

Ahem... yes, I'm definitely awake now.

Alright, alright, let's... not stare directly into the natural, hydrogen-based fusion reactor somewhere up there in space. That's usually a surefire way to guarantee eye-related problems which, logically, would greatly impede my _already greatly decreased_ ability to play strategy games, RPGs and all that. Oh, and I might lose my ability to read the Game of Thrones books a second time. Or Harry Potter for that matter. And Fanfiction, when we're already at it. Well, good to know that my priorities are all sorted out.

Ah, right on time! My eyes just adjusted to the insufferable brightness and I can finally see…

…

 _A really, really blurry mess!_

"... You should put your glasses on."

... I should do what? What's up with that crazy woman?

* * *

I'm _bliiind!_

Or it feels at least that way.

Fact is: After being passive-aggressively herded into the bathroom to wash myself and barely being able to grab my glasses (which I now _vaguely_ remember being _gifted_ with yesterday), I found the new body of mine standing underneath a running shower head and tried to (re-)acquaint myself with this... new reality... and the fact that I'll have to wear glasses unless I want to risk further irritating my eye tissue through the usage of contacts.

Then again, as everyone knows, glasses raise the intelligence stat. It's basic knowledge. Like the fact that a beard increases the luck stat.

Which reminds me of the unfortunate fact that I don't have a beard anymore. Or everything else that made me a man. But hey, the Random Omnipotent A-hole that had decided to screw with my life had at least paid reparations in other areas... since, apparently, whichever body I ended up inhabiting seems to not only have an... overly generous... rack... and a definitely noticeable lack of bodily fats, but could also shriek with such an intensity that shattering glass became child's play.

Not that that really helps me to keep all the colors from mixing with one another, buuut... well, the urge to mentally note it down was there.

Ugh.

…

Okay, I'm over-exaggerating... a bit.

The fact is: Everything within arm's reach I can... identify. However, everything outside of it is very blurry. That means I'm nearsighted, right?

Bummer.

(I miss my beard.)

*sigh*

I should start listing positive things. Not everything within the last... hours had been negative. Heck, I own a gem that acts as Hammerspace, I _shouldn't_ hunger for the next month (even though my stomach says otherwise... darn traitor...), I met a swimsuit-model with a god complex, I got a flower pot, I'm alive, still have all my arms, legs and kidneys, as far as I can tell I'm healthy and I finally saw a girl naked.

... Well, I saw a mirror's reflection of my body naked.

…

Aaand, well, my hair is red. Coppery red. It may be artificial, but it doesn't matter because it is red. I haven't endured years of ridicule just to throw my hair color away.

…

*sigh*

How do emotionally driven people deal with their emotions again? What are their expectations? Because that stuff is hard!

…

I should get out of the shower.

Where are the towels again?

* * *

Glasses 'equipped', I cannot help but think that the mirror's reflection of _the body_ looks like something others would label as a 'dork'... whatever that is. That there was still a... green memory crystal pendant thing still around my neck was apparently also something the reflection completely forgot about, adding to the illusion of it resembling an idiot.

At least the reflection wears a towel around her body now, though the hair could have been dried beforehand.

But yes, coppery red hair, eyes the color of cobalt, a... for a lack of a better word, 'cute' nose, pale skin that still managed to look healthy and not like what would fit on those sparkling vampire-wannabes... oh, and an expression that eerily reminiscent of an ' _expression of_ _eternal hatred commonly found on babies that hadn't gotten their butts wiped yet but was exactly that and definitely not a pout_ '-pout graces the image's face.

Then the expression softened into one of... light apathy? It was emotionless with a... slightly sad undertone? Well, now there's a toothbrush in the mouth, busily brushing teeth, operated by a _dainty_ hand connected to a _petite_ arm.

... It will take a while until I'm familiar with this sight.

Now then, where is that watch?

* * *

Women's undergarments are... terrifying.

* * *

 _ **"BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep -"**_

Where is that **stupid** alarm clock? I swear, if I get my hands on it-

* * *

After a lot of cursing, some death threats, a case of a shirt ripping, more cursing and other mishaps caused by the newly discovered explosive temper of mine I can now proudly proclaim that I managed to get dressed. I know, I know, being able to dress oneself is hardly anything to be proud of since _anyone_ should be able to do so, but give me some slack: Women's clothes are absolutely painful to work with, especially if _absolutely anything_ seems to be one or, _oh so help me,_ even **two** sizes too small.

But I persevered. In the end, with what minuscule amount of fashion sense I had I managed to... scramble an outfit together... somehow.

Leanbox's climate is a bit more on the warmer side, meaning that unless I want to risk getting a serious case of heatstroke I should stay _far away_ from anything mildly considered as winter clothing... much to my chagrin.

So, in the end, I settled on sandals, white shorts and a gray T-shirt. The top in question had a large-ish, stylized white colored power-symbol printed on its side, just above the hip. It just asked for someone to thrust a dagger right through the glorified target mark but I like it anyways. Though maybe I should have donned the green one, seeing as the vast majority of this city's citizens also tend to wear green colored apparel. After all, if the color palette of my clothes matches that of every other person around, I might stay relatively unnoticed for longer periods of time.

... And it also appears that there's a red version of this shirt trapped in Hammerspace. For obvious, Star Trek related reasons I'll give that one a wide berth.

 ***** _ **Clack-click**_ *****

I turn my attention back to the room's door... and see the probably second or third most gorgeous woman I have ever seen walk in. An overall build like an erotic doll, she wears a black dress that is more like a corset and leaves absolutely nothing up to the imagination, her black stockings reached well above her long knees, her _ridiculously_ long hair is a _healthy_ shade of blonde-ish, limey green, with a black ribbon binding it together into a loose ponytail... and heck, she looks like she wants to do nothing more than murder me if the scowl on her face is anything to go by.

... Why do I have the feeling that the woman is dissecting me with her eyes… wait, is she staring at me with horror or disgust?

"... You cannot be serious."

What?

"… No, you _are_ serious."

What the hell is she talking about?

The woman closed her eyes as she holds her hand to her temple and mutters _something_.

She's annoyed, that much I am able to deduce.

Then her eyes open again, filled with the tell-tale fiery determination of a young woman on a _crusade_. "You will _not_ meet my darling Vert _until_ I have _personally_ fixed you!"

… What? "Excuse me?"

The… verdette's face simply hardens. "You heard me right, young lady! I will not stand by and let you embarrass my darling Vert just because you discarded all rules of fashion, were too lazy to comb your hair and forgot to apply makeup! Speaking of…"

It is here that the green haired woman procures one of the most terrifying weapons in the history of mankind, with seemingly no real effort on her part, despite it being as large and long as her entire forearm. Her dainty hand is firmly holding onto the black handle, yet the thing that horrifies me the most is the weapon's 'blade'…

Except it isn't a blade the woman has in her grip, but the world's largest powder puff…

"Let me rectify that first."

Just into what kind of universe have I found myself thrown into?

There is no time to wonder for the verdette promptly traps my shoulder with an iron-like grip, a menacing (maniacal?) glint lighting up in her eyes.

I won't survive this, will I?

* * *

 _One hour-long torture session later_

" ***cough*** … ***cough*** Make it _stooop_!"

White. Clouds of white. Everywhere… No escape… No salvation… No hope… Everything is so… Dry...

The female _demon_ in black and green continues with her mission, ignoring the misery of her victim. "Stop whining! Not only is it highly unbecoming of a lady, your tears also ruin the makeup. I will be _very_ displeased if you disregard basic etiquette and ruin my hard work."

Once again, the deadliest weapon mankind had ever designed found its target, covering it in the white mist of cosmetic powder. "And as long as you keep squirming I will not be able to finish. So, do us both a favor and _stay still_!"

No more… no more I say! I will _not_ let others make a fool of myself any longer! _The swarm will-_

"Gah!" Gods, make it stop!

"To be beautiful means to feel pain… and you will have to feel a lot of pain, indeed."

Cannot escape… that woman is utterly INSANE! "No more! No more powder, no more makeup! I will not stand by and endure! Stuff your powder puff in your-"

"Therefore…"

… Huh?

"… let me show you how to _wax_."

* * *

 _By the love of pudding, LATER_

\- Break -  
(Green Heart)

"Chika, what happened to our guest?"

Vert is… concerned. The 'little' delirious teen she had picked up yesterday has not only turned out to be significantly taller than what she originally suspected, with her _almost_ being equal in height to both her and Chika now that she's wearing heels... Strange. It seems that she is currently suffering from what seems to be a… medium system crash, making her unresponsive to the world.

"Nothing of note, dearest sister. She merely asked me to assist her in getting dressed for the day."

That… didn't sound quite right. From the limited time Vert had spent with the... red haired girl, she could confidently say that their still-unnamed guest _should_ have had enough common sense to dress herself. But then again, one evening isn't _quite_ enough to gain a complete picture of another person's preferences… and if it turns out their guest prefered to discard clothes all together, well who was she to lecture the teen on it? After all, if you have the figure why would you _not_ show it off?

"It is quite unfortunate though that almost all her clothes are two sizes too small. Even if she were to change her diet, they would still not fit… well, unless she loses so much weight that only skin and bones remain."

… Now that made more sense. Vert might or might not have overdone it a bit the other day and accidentally gotten some of the more… form fitting garments. "Then I shall assist you in your endeavour."

"Oh nononono, this is not _that_ hard of a task that-"

"I insist."

* * *

\- Blanc mk2.0 -  
(Name pending)

Ugh…

Note to myself: Avoid green haired women at all costs. Nothing good comes from them.

"So, what do you say?"

… Right, I… am in the process of being tortured. My… everything hurts. The lungs are clogged up with dust, a stabbing pain assaults my… brain, I'm not quite certain if my legs have been switched to prosthetic imitations or not…

And who the hell is that teen in front of me? Well, I do have to admit, the combination of a red shirt and white skirt looks good on her and if she's fine with showing off her legs like that, well who am I to judge her for it? Said legs are mostly covered in white… stockings? Is that the word? They are long, fastened by red bands knotted into small ribbons, cover her knee caps and just a tiny bit more past that point before making way for exposed skin, which is just-so visible before the skirt covers the rest.

 _Ahem._

Long story short, she looked good… Well, not good but _good_. Waaay-above-my-league-good. And if my eyes aren't deceiving me then she's also wearing a-

… Wait.

Gorgeously smooth looking skin, long, coppery-red hair, cobalt blue eyes, just barely noticeable makeup, a pair of red-framed rectangular glasses and an incredulous expression of shock… mimicking my movements…

* _sigh_ * It's my current appearance projected by a mirror… Which means I am wearing a red shirt. Bad things happen to people who wear red shirts, as proven by Star Trek… and I will definitely never look at women's clothing the same way again.

"It appears that our _guest_ is still unresponsive. I _sincerely hope_ she hadn't hurt her head too hard when she fell out of the bed."

… Ah, yes, I'm not alone in this room.

"Now, now, Chika, there is no need to confront our guest on something out of her control."

Inhale… and exhale… There, I should be good for now. Let's just pretend the last few hours had never happened. All that matters is that I look good, there are two people in the room and I am still hungry… ah, and I have a slight migraine. Can't forget about that.

In any case, from this list food takes priority. Second priority is to get the hell away from these nutcases. So, on that end… "May I inquire where the nearest market is located? I would like to acquire some basic sustenance."

I can practically * _feel_ * how the two * _maniacs_ * raise their eyebrows in question.

And it is the blonde bombshell who answered. "My, my, it wouldn't be proper of I as the host to not provide my valued guest with a warm and healthy meal." She paused. "... and I have to concede, this sentence looked decidedly better on paper." Vert shook her head. "Nevertheless, I formally invite you to…" she looked at the spot where the alarm clock had been before… before snapping her fingers and summoning a small holographic screen out of nowhere, glance at it and then dismissing it again, "... to lunch, it appears. And, since my sources are unable to locate any relatives of yours, we shall also deal with… a few administrative irregularities.."

…That probably means paperwork…

"Yes."

…

"Indeed, you voiced your thoughts."

I let out a small groan. "How much paperwork are we talking about here?"

Even though my attention was purely focused on a strand of blonde hair just to the side of her left eye, I still saw Chika's… small smirk. Vert, for her part, looked utterly, utterly serene, yet also… slightly apologetic? In any case, my question was left unanswered… which more likely than not was an indicator as to how much paperwork was involved…

 _Oh dear…_

* * *

 _Oh goodie, let's just skip the boring_ _parts_

I angrily stomp through the filled streets to the one building in this entire gods forsaken city that counts! Vert What's-her-last-name is an official Government worker? Pah! Sure, she presents two very good reasons for people to to give Leanbox (which bright mind thought that was a good name for a city, let alone a nation?) a chance, but… really?

Well, actually, she might be the current Miss Leanbox or something…

Anyways… Knocking the doors open I set my sight onto the happily smiling official at the nearest counter… which is located at the other side of the room, with a bunch of guys and gals in funny clothing in between.

Like… ** **Hundreds** ** of them.

How and why the hell one would need such a large entry hall for a town hall I would never know, but this isn't important right now.

Well then… Let's get the metaphorical snowplow out, get through the mass of people and get to the stand which, helpfully, had the large ***Registration***-sign hovering over their booth thanks to whatever kind of anti-gravity or Hardlight Device it was they used.

I just have to dodge a wildly gesturing "adventurer", dodge a swipe at my shorts, evade the arm that almost impacted with my side, angrily stomp onto a guy's foot who groped my butt, angrily stomp onto *another* guy who slapped my butt, dodge a wild swing from one of their friends, step behind an unfortunate armored figure who soon got inserted into this impromptu brawl and kicked their collective butts, side step the guy who sold tulips for goodness knows what reason, make a detour for the water dispension unit… or water cooler to get myself a refreshment and then, finally, I arrive just in time to get into the (now) short line and waited until I got my turn.

Sure, half the room behind me was now in chaos, but I didn't friggin' care right now.

As I patiently waited in the line, the other guys and gals gave me and odd look. I just gave them my brightest smile… which might or might not have looked like a homicidal person's attempt at grinning, but since the people went red and turned around I mustn't have done too bad a job.

Right?

* * *

*A little later*

Huh, they have a random name generator in their electronic registration document and since my former name * _definitely_ * isn't… suitable for… this body, I just hit it a couple of times until I hit something vaguely interesting.

Silicon.

… Yea, that wouldn't do, but deleting a bit here and adding an A…

Silica.

For what it is, it's perfect. Sure, some character in SAO has the same name, but I don't care right now. It works and that is all that counts.

Interestingly enough, you can leave your last name out of the registration, something which I happily did.

Preferred Weapon? Class? What's that supposed to mean? Eh, let's go with a premade... Specialist? Yea, that works…

Affiliation? What is that supposed to mean-:

* _The nation you wish to affiliate yourself with.  
Attention: Our autocorrect will default "Boobs" to "Leanbox" since that is what people usually mean*_

... What. The. Hell.

I shook my head. I am pretty sure the guy who had written that line had already been fired... though, good to know that you can tap on things in order to look at more eloquent descriptions.

Now I only need to add my signature and synchronize this all with my Digital Storage Unit for some reason… aaand done.

Best part of all: It only lasted for five minutes and the lady at the desk was friendly enough to take a photo of me for the pass. Friggin' awesome!

The lady in the green and white uniform bowed, smiling. "Welcome to the guild, miss Silica. I hope you will be a productive addition to our Nation."

… Wait, what? Guild?

I didn't get to voice my thoughts as she handed me a pass- err, guild license (?) and the guy next in line more or less shoved me away…

I… silently walk back through the aftermath of the brawl and think about just what the hell I had gotten myself into.

… I really should have looked over the headlines, shouldn't I?

...

Now... I should better hide from the Miss Leanbox and her seee _ecretary_... They might be a _bit_ irate that I fled out of their home without cleaning after myself...

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 _Neptune drags an unconscious Author away from his partway obliterated bunker_

Neptune: Welp, That had taken far too long for my liking. And only a little more than 4K, to.  
( _she looks down and placed her hand on her hips, huffing_ )  
Neptune: What do you have to say for yourself, mister?

True: Oof... Well... Fist off, I had an internship, got a job, helped my father on the farm, played Xenoblade, Mario and Rabbits, Mariocart, got invited into Zerg's Discord, got Discord, found some alright dudes to talk to, got invited into _their_ Discord, wrote a bit, got Writer's block, finished BotW, played Valkyria Chronicles 4, CrossCode (great Game), found Stellaris (a lot), did tons of Brainstorming, played Starcraft and HotS, read tons of Fanfiction, play D&D with fellow Authors (I have the worst rolls... and the Ferret... **the Ferret!** ), gave them poor (and most times even poorer) suggestions, we all had great fun and definitely didn't held a gun against my head to get this chapter out.

True: Long Story short: Apart from Real Life hogging much more of my life than it used to, I spend most of my time on Porp's Discord and getting distracted.

True: On the other hand, I finally have the story planned out!

* _cricket noises*_

True: Err, yea. Anyways, big shoutouts at Porpol, the Author of Ruination and Shattersoul, the Author of HyperDementia Neptunia, for helping me out, beeing cool guys and, in Porp's case, holding a metaphorical barrel to my head to get my butt in gear. Seriously, without those two this story would have been as dead as MBaRS.

Well then, I'll try my very best to get a real writing schedule for once and make an update that's preferably still within this decade. Who would have thought that Role playing was actually good for some things?

Neptune: Yes, yes, yes, yes, but when do I finally-

True: This is Truemmerphantom, signing out. I wish you all a good day!  
* _Grabs wooden planks and starts to rebuild the bunker*_


End file.
